


Stars

by ALilyPea (alilypea)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alilypea/pseuds/ALilyPea
Summary: Derek used to love watching the stars. He and his father would climb up on the roof of the house, blankets in hand every solstice when he was little and lay there for hours. When he got older, they would go deep into the preserve and sleep under the stars.The North star was theirs, bright in the sky, especially during that time.Then the fire ripped away his North Star and all the constellations that crowded around it.





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This will soon be replaced with a beta'd version, was just eager to post. So far it's only been edited by Grammarly, so be kind.
> 
> This fic works under the premise that Erica and Boyd lived, but Cora was still around. This is also likely the first in a mini-series.

Derek used to love watching the stars. He and his father would climb up on the roof of the house, blankets in hand every solstice when he was little and lay there for hours. When he got older, they would go deep into the preserve and sleep under the stars.

The North star was theirs, bright in the sky, especially during that time.

Then the fire ripped away his North Star and all the constellations that crowded around it.

He doesn’t look at the stars after that, not even when Laura tried to get him to. Not even when she’s gone and Peter came back, and he still feels like the only Hale.

Cora is alive, but she doesn’t shine like she used to, her light dimmed by her bitterness.

He doesn’t force her to search for the stars, and when she tells him, she needs to leave he lets her go.

He still feels like the only Hale.

There’s talk of a pack camping trip, and it’s with reluctance that he agreed to go.

“Where is everyone?” He asks Stiles, setting his bag down on the ground.

“Two guesses where Scott is,” is the response as Stiles struggles with the tent frame.

“With Allison... and Isaac,” Derek guesses, arms crossed over his chest. “And the rest of the pack?” He tried not to let it bother him, that he’s the only one here and wonders if Stiles planned it that way.

“Only you know where your sister is, Jackson decided camping was beneath him even though I saw him eat a literal deer last week, so I assume Lydia is with him. Boyd is visiting his nana, so Erica went too,” Stiles explains as he hammers another peg into the ground.

“So it’s just us?”

Stiles nods and glances up, tension in his frame. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Derek says. “I just figured…” He trails off at the look of defiance on Stiles’ face.

“Maybe it’s time you stop thinking we don’t want you around.”

Derek nods his head because what the hell can he say to that. He can also see this for what it is, some semblance of normalcy in a world that often goes sideways.

“Here I’ll help,” Derek approaches, and with his help, the tent is erected in half the time it would typically take.

“Where’s yours?” Stiles asks, pouring water over his hands to clean them, wiping them off with a rag.

“Didn’t bring one,” He admits in a soft voice because he’s never needed one before. Sleeping bags and the stars were all his family ever needed. Maybe an air mattress if they were feeling particularly luxurious.

“We can share mine unless you want to sleep under the stars. I hear it’s nice,” Stiles doesn’t see him flinch, half in the tent positioning his sleeping bag.

“No, that’s great, thanks. I couldn’t find mine,” Derek lies.

“Mine fits four,” Stiles grabs Derek’s pack with quick hands, putting it in the tent with care.

“Do you want me to build a fire?”

Stiles peeks out the tent at him, a look of surprise on his face. “Yeah, yeah, if you want to.”

Derek shakes his head. He has no problem with fire, not really, just what it doesn’t leave behind. He begins arranging the wood in the pit, enjoying the heat of the waning sun on his arms.

“You’re good at that,” Stiles muses, rolling over a chopped up piece of log to sit on.

“My dad taught me,” the words don’t hurt as much as they used to, even as they drag their way out of his throat.

Stiles nods, fidgeting for a moment. “Was he a wolf?”

“No,” Derek replies. “But he knew the preserve better than the rest of us.” He ducks his head as he tucks some bark into the pit.

“Yeah, was he like a boy scout or something?”

“Environmental preservationist,” Derek responds, thinking about how his father’s hands could soothe both scraped knees and a bird’s broken wing.

“That’s cool.”

“I used to think he was a superhero,” Derek finds himself sharing and tries not to be surprised, but no one else has asked about his family in a long time.

“He was, to do a job like that, a thankless but essential job, Derek, that’s amazing,” Stiles enthused.

Derek looks and feels a little surprised. “Yeah, I guess he was. Your dad is one too, then.”

Stiles nods and smiles, proud. “He is, sometimes I think I’d like to follow in his footsteps.”

“You’d be good at it,” Derek lights a match and drops it, backing away from the pit quickly as the fire rushes up and sits down next to Stiles.

“You think so?” Stiles asks, his fidgeting stalled for a moment.

“You think I come to you for research for my own amusement?” Derek still can’t believe Stiles can’t see himself for who and what he is.

Stiles shakes his head. “Research doesn’t always translate into an investigator or Deputy.”

Derek stretches his legs out in front of him and feels confident in his next words. “You would do it.”

Stiles nods, a considering look crossing his face before disappointment seems to seep in. “If he lets me.”

“No one has ever stopped you from doing what you want to, not even him.”

“I know, it’s just... I want to keep him happy,” Stiles mutters.

“Two things,” Derek surprises himself and from the looks of it, Stiles. “Happy and happy with you are likely two different things. Also, you should never sacrifice your happiness for someone else’s.”

“What fortune cookies did you pull that from?” Stiles asks, partly because he’s uncomfortable, and Derek can see it, but also partly because he can be a bit of an ass, and Derek knows it.

“Talia Hale.”

“Shit, sorry,” Stiles apologizes, hasty, but Derek doesn’t feel anger.

It’s been fading lately, which should worry him, but for some reason, it doesn’t, and the sound of Stiles’ offbeat heart is almost soothing.

“It’s okay; you didn’t know, you couldn’t have,” Derek shakes his head. “I’m fine, talking about her. About them.”

“Yeah?” Stiles beams at him, elbows on his knees now as he turns back to the fire, leaning in. “That’s good, what were your brothers like?”

“Pains in the asses,” Derek responds with a sharp laugh that even shocks him slightly.

“Yeah?” Stiles laughs himself. “Isn’t that in the bro code though?”

Derek rolls his eyes and nods his head. “I guess so. My older brother, Jake, he loved to rag on me about every little thing.”

“Like what?”

“Girls, guys, my hair, my teeth, my stutter.”

“No way.”

“Yep, he’d lay off if he thought he was too mean, or where Laura might hear,” Derek rubs the back of his neck, remembering the number of times she’d yelled at Jake on his behalf.

“She was your protector?” Stiles asks, and there’s a thread of guilt anchoring his voice, and scent.

“Yeah, she was,” Derek nods.

“Did she know?” Stiles looks at his hands, then the fire, almost pointed.

“I didn’t tell her,” Derek drops his hand into his lap, “but she knew I felt guilty.”

“You can tell? Like pack connection or something?” And there it is, Stiles’ unending curiosity. It reminds Derek of himself.

Derek feels his lips curl up into a smile and resists the urge to reach up and touch it, to be sure that it’s happening.

“No, we can’t read each other’s thoughts or feel many emotions within the pack, but every emotion has a scent to it,” He explains.

“What does guilt smell like?”

“Sweet blood,” Derek responds, clenching his hands into fists momentarily, remembering the scent surrounding Peter that he’d ignored. “It smells like copper, and something bitterly sweet, like... Like acid and candy.”

“So I smell like that sometimes?” It sounds like a question Stiles doesn’t want to ask but needs to know the answer to.

“Sometimes.” Derek stares into the flames, remembering when the heat from the fire would’ve had him running with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

Stiles nods, growing quiet.

“Earlier you did when you asked about Laura.”

“I’m uh... I’m sorry about how stupid I was when I was younger; we never should’ve touched her grave, or treated it like a game, finding her. We were stupid,” Stiles picks at his nails.

“It’s okay,” Derek tells him, and in a way it is. “I wouldn’t have buried her like that if I’d been in my right mind.” It’s the closest he’ll likely ever come to talking about how finding her, in half, ruined him.

“Yeah, it was probably shocking.”

“We should make s’mores,” Derek says suddenly, wanting off this topic. “You brought stuff, right?”

“That was more shocking,” Stiles comments, not without humour, but hops up to grab the marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate, along with two skewers for roasting.

“I figured maybe we should lighten the mood, this early into our first “pack” camping trip, besides, they’re one of my favourite foods,” Derek takes one of the skewers before Stiles accidentally stabs himself, or him.

“This is an amazing camping trip,” Stiles rips open the bag of marshmallows and takes one out before passing it on. He sets up the chocolate on the graham cracker before swinging the skewer toward the fire.

Derek does the same, eyes drawn to the darkening sky. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“Did you camp a lot as a kid, living in the preserve?” Stiles asks him, sucking bits of marshmallow off of his thumb as he puts it all together a few moments later.

“Yeah, I was closer to my mom, but my dad always made sure to spend time with us, one on one, and all together, especially out here.”

Stiles nods, a seriousness to him that isn’t usually there.

“My mom used to drag us camping,” Stiles told him, eyes on Derek the whole time, like building s’mores is a spectator sport. “She used to say it was one of the only ways to keep dad from working too hard.”

“Sounds like something my mom might’ve done,” Derek chuckles.

“S’mores were one of her favourite foods too,” Stiles told him, a lopsided grin on his face.

“She was a good woman,” Derek affirms, smiling when Stiles laughs. He can’t help but enjoy this, for reasons he’s not quite ready to think about.

“Tell me more about your camping trips,” Stiles insists as he readies another marshmallow for roasting.

Derek nods and talks more about his dad, Jake, Laura, Daniel and even Cora. He tells him about the stars and points out a few constellations, including lupus, his eyes always returning to see the enchanted look on Stiles’ face.

Throughout the night he wonders if he’s found a different kind of North Star, along the way.


End file.
